


Flex

by Numina



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Found Family, Light Angst, Short & Sweet, Sibling Rivalry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-01
Updated: 2021-02-06
Packaged: 2021-03-12 12:59:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29135925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Numina/pseuds/Numina
Summary: Starlord finally gets that Bowflex, but he and Thor need to work out a lot more than their pecs.
Relationships: Peter Quill & Thor
Comments: 4
Kudos: 6





	1. Step 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi friends! After a year and a half of really frustrating stuff I'm getting back on the horse with a short little thing that's been kicking around my head since Endgame. My big goal is to get back onto an everyday writing schedule and regularly publishing on my WIPs, so this one is gonna be a little rough and whimsical. Handful of chapters, character study, that kind of thing. Onward!

Nebula sat in the cockpit, one foot up on the dash, and watched automods service the ship. For a starport, it seemed peaceful, possibly because she was, finally. 

Waysis was an unexceptional backwater in the same outer spiral arm as Quill’s home world. Not much more than a fueling station, rest stop, and flea market. The view from the parking lot was pleasantly novel, however. Blue dunes fringed with magenta grasses, lit by a foamy phosphorescent yellow sea that was the only natural light on the planet’s permanent dark side.  
  
The others were off availing themselves of the market, far across that parking field. She waited with the Milano as mobile units drained the waste and fed the tanks.  
  
The outer door hissed and Rocket called, “You doin’ alright in there, Baldy?”  
  
She sighed and changed feet, “Yes. Are you back?”

“Not really, I still have to go find Groot. And Drax. And Mantis. Honestly it’s like picking seeds outta my teeth getting them in from a rest stop. I just didn’t want to miss this.”

He had that tone. Intrigued against her will, Nebula swung out of her seat and went to the hold to see whatever it was that wasn’t to be missed. 

She heard Quill’s voice first, resolving from his usual sharply punctuated chatter into words just before he came into view, “...and maybe you don’t understand that, seeing as how you were born with everything handed to you-”  
  
“Oh no, not at all,” Thor interrupted jovially, “I’m very aware of the benefits of exercises, particularly with weapons, I’m just not sure why you’re so excited about training with a bow this heavy. It must be designed for-”  
  
“I told you,” Quill re-interrupted as he and Thor team-carried a box into the hangar, Quill showing some strain, Thor holding up his half one-handed, “It’s not a bow. It’s a bowflex. It’s for exercise. And it’s from my homeworld.”  
  
“We only just left your homeworld a week ago. Barely that.”  
  
“You can’t get them there anymore. But they’re awesome. I can’t believe I found one. Here, put it here.”

“Huh,” Thor remarked insightfully as Quill opened up the scuffed and battered cardboard to reveal welded bars, long staves, and insulated pulley cords.  
  
Quill got that twitch in his eye that Nebula had noticed every time Thor talked for too long in his presence, and his tone grew more defensive, “It’s so I can exercise while we’re in hyperspace without adding any more extra weight to the ship,” he looked pointedly at Thor’s midsection.  
  
“You know you can always join Drax and I for practice.” 

“Nah nah nah,” Quill squatted to retrieve the alan wrench from the hardware bag, “see this thing is scientifically designed. Optimised for results. It’s all about ascending tension.”

Rocket glanced at Nebula and muttered through a grin, “You can say that again.”

Thor nodded thoughtfully, “Well, alright, you’ve convinced me. Starting tomorrow we give this bowflex a try.”

Quill seemed perplexed between having won his point and gaining a prize he didn’t want out of it, “Well… good.”

Rocket grinned, “Oh and I thought we weren’t going to have any fun between here and Collust IV.”

“Here, let me see the instructions,” Thor reached and Quill moved to block him.  
  
“No, it’s fine, I really don’t need your help. Until two minutes ago you thought this thing was a hand ballista.”

Nebula’s insides turned with a mix of disgust and reluctant empathy. She didn’t share Rocket’s joy when Quill chafed under the presence of the effortlessly gifted demigod, like an unflattering photo of her own past. Thor’s expertly cherubic needling of Quill’s obvious insecurity didn’t sit well with her, either. The others didn’t seem to notice how intentional it was, but also how automatic. 

“I’ll be in the cockpit,” she muttered to Rocket, “Let me know when you’re ready for takeoff. Or if they kill each other. Whichever comes first.”


	2. Step 1b

“I am Groot.”

“What? Are you sure?” Quill sat back on his heels and looked up at the symmetrical spray of bow staves that the workout gadget presented, like a vulture raised by peacocks.

Groot held up the french-language instructions and tapped the picture for step twelve, “I am Groot.”

Quill sighed, “Yeah. You’re right. Crap.” He slumped back onto his butt and squeezed the alan wrench like he wanted to throw it but knew it would be lost forever if he did.

“I think it looks quite horrifying,” Mantis offered with evident approval.

Quill seized on the distraction, and rubbed at the knots in his neck, “Mantis, what do you think this is for?”

“To sit on. So as to demonstrate your dominance to guests and supplicants.”

He smirked and turned to the young tree, “Groot? You wanna take a guess?”

Groot squinted at it with one eye, “I am Groot?”

Quill’s eyebrows jumped and he coughed, “Hah, no. Still closer than what Golden Boy thought, but no. It’s to help exercise muscles. To gradually get stronger. Or it would be if we hadn’t put the staves and pulleys in the wrong order. Lemme see how much of this we need to take off and re-do.”

“Hey kiddos,” Rocket called as he left off spying from the shadows and strolled into the hold, “dinner’s ready. Better get up there before Drax finds out.”

“Yeah, go on you two, thanks for all the help,” Quill scooted to the high back of the thing and began loosening bolts. 

“You not eating?” Rocket folded his arms.

“I’ll get something later. We’re all stocked up on instapackets.”

As Mantis passed Rocket she leaned down and said something Peter couldn’t hear. Rocket replied, “Yeah, I know, kiddo. I got this.”

Peter’s shoulders hunched up higher as Rocket kept staring at his back. Once Mantis and Groot were out of earshot he grumbled, “Something on your mind?”

“Nah. You do what you want. It’s your ship, right?”

“That’s right.”

“Well speakin’ as one captain of this ship to another, you oughta start acting like it.”

Quill didn’t turn or stop futzing with his avante garde thingamajig, “I assume you’re gonna elaborate whether I want you to or not. You been skulking around the door all day.”

Rocket’s tone turned defensive, “Hey, I been keepin’ Nebula and Thor outta here so you can work. I didn’t want you to feel scrutinized.” He’d had all day to think about how he’d phrase it if Quill complained, so he was able to swallow about a dozen snide digs about how useless Quill got when he felt threatened. 

“Well… thanks,” Quill conceded, “That all?”

“I just don’t wanna be the only one trying to set a good example. It doesn’t come natural to either of us, but it’s still a job that needs doin’. So suck it up and pick up your share of that slack.” He didn’t say Gamora’s name. It was clear enough that he was talking about the gap she’d left behind in their little family. The one Thor and Nebula would never fill, even if it were their jobs, which it wasn’t.

Quill stopped working but didn’t turn, “This doesn’t look to you like I’m trying to set a good example? To improve myself instead of just...” he trailed off and shrugged.

Rocket crossed his arms the other way and leaned against the doorway appraisingly, “This to me looks like a giant voort spider flash-frozen mid-surrender. I don’t care. I’m not here to criticize your hobbies. But I just got Groot back and I don’t want him thinking that meal times are optional now just because… yuh know.”

The silence hung until Rocket added, as gently as he could, “You’re not the only one going through this.”

“Yeah well,” Quill cut off whatever he’d been about to say and instead spot-welded on, “Thor wants to get started tomorrow, so I gotta get this done.”

Rocket held up his hands, “Aright, aright. And you’re not gonna let me help?”

“Nope.”

“Me, the hyper-genius inventor. I’m not allowed to help with this tab A slot B nutsy-boltsy bullshit?”

“Nope.”

“Me, the guy literally engineered to be the galaxy’s greatest engineer. You don’t want I should fix up your little demonic taffy puller all nice for ya.”

“I don’t want it to have lasers. Or spikes. Or a mysterious countdown timer.”

Rocket turned with a dismissive wave, “Pfsh. Your loss. I’ll save you a plate.”


	3. Step 2

Drax picked at the last of the boiled crabnuts on Quill’s dinner plate as the hold’s chronometer beeped to announce the beginning of the morning cycle. 

Quill woke with a snort and a startle, his back cracking loudly several times as he sat up on the bowflex’s bench. He stood up and gave his creation a final appraising kick, just to see if it would fall apart like a vindictive cartoon. 

It held together, and he smiled. Sure he hadn’t eaten most of his dinner or gotten any good sleep, but he’d gotten it done. His own home gym. The realization of a weird but closely held childhood dream. 

And the only person in the universe he wanted to brag about it to didn’t exist anymore.

He gave it another kick on the other side, just to be sure. 

“So what do you think I should do?” Drax asked.

Quill turned and shook his head, tried to remember whether Drax had been there before, but the grogginess was like water in his ear, “What?”

Drax looked at him patiently, “What we were talking about. Before you dozed off.”

Memory clicked in, he shook his head again, “Oh. Right. I dunno, man. I just don’t think she’s into you. And if she doesn’t want you staring at her you probably shouldn’t.”

“Even if-”

“Even if you’re ‘invisible’, yes. Especially then. But how is she your type, anyway? I thought you hated thin girls.”

Drax sighed and gazed at the ceiling, “I wish that I could explain it. She’s just so… immovable.”

Quill nodded, “Mkay, okay, I can see that. Yeah. I just… I mean she’s been through a lot. I dunno if she’s up for your… attentions. In this...” he gestured around the small hold, “setting.”

Drax nodded slowly, “It would be bad to make her feel cornered.”

Quill nodded vigorously, “Yeah, exactly.”

“I expect she is gloriously lethal if cornered.”

Quill’s shoulders slumped, “Yeah. I expect she is. Yup. Which is why I am  _ begging _ you to just stay away from her until we get to Parosas, at least. Once she’s bought her own ship, has her own space, it’ll take the pressure off. Then just be honest with her, and really listen to her answer.”

“I think that this is wise advice,” he stood up with the empty plate, and patted Quill’s sore shoulder gratefully on his way to the door, “Because it is the opposite of how you behave with women.”

Quill’s lower lip ruched, “Thanks.”

“Good morning!” Thor called heartily as he strode into the room past Drax, “Glad to see we’re all getting an early start. Is this the… thing?”

Quill frowned, “The Bowflex. Yeah.”

Thor cocked his head to one side, “Smaller than I thought it’d be.”

Quill bristled, but held himself proudly, “It’s designed for maximum performance in minimal space. Plus it doesn’t require gravity to work.”

“Well then! Why don’t we give it a go, build up an appetite for breakfast!”

“Sure. Sure. You wanna just start on the lowest weight and figure out-”

“No, I think I can start out, oh, about here,” Thor took the hook and attached it to the highest tension setting, “Unless you-”

Quill’s stomach tensed, “No! No that’s fine. Fine with me. I mean, I once held the power stone. I survived a dance-off with Ronin the Accuser. I been fighting guys four times my size since I was ten. Part celestial, after all. I was just… I mean how does this even work for you? Like shouldn’t you just summon a thunderbolt to melt your gut off or something?”

“No it’s, ah,” Thor scratched the back of his neck and regarded his belly with an uncertain pat, “It’s complicated.”

“Complicated how?”

“Just complicated,” He trailed off and then clapped his hands together brightly, “So how do we start?”

“Well that’s the great thing. Depending on where you put the pulley and position your body, you can do a hundred different exercises. Here, I think in the instructions it…” he turned in a circle, scanning the floor, “the… instructions... they were around here somewhere.”

“Ah well nevermind. We’ll figure it out. Let’s see,” Thor straddled the bench, picked up the hand grips, and pulled back in a row. The staves bent. Thor blew a breath. His knuckles whitened. His forearms trembled as he reached the end of his range and eased the hand grips back to starting position. He let out a tense chuckle, “Hah, yes, very good. Excellent warm up.”

Quill narrowed his eyes, “Yeah. Good warm up. That’s six hundred pounds, dude.”

Thor’s smile seemed flawed, “Six hundred? Really. Well. That’s quite good then. You, uh, you want to try?” 

“You’re just gonna do one?”

“Um, for now, yes. I mean it’s your machine, don’t want to monopolize it.”

“Cool. Cool. Why don’t you go get some breakfast.”

Rocket came down shortly after and found Quill pacing. “You ok?” he asked.

Quill shook his head, “He’s just gonna make every single thing about this trip unbearable, isn’t he. What the hell did I ever do to him?!”

Rocket sighed, “Slow down, bud, I only just got on whatever hobby horse you’re riding.”

“Thor. He just-” he shook his head and sat down on a crate heavily, “he just comes in here and tops out my new machine, does one rep, ONE, acts like it’s all difficult, then walks off. He’s making FUN of me! What an ASShole!”   
  
Rocket squinted at him, “You sure? I mean I know he’s a semi-hemi-demi-whatever, but he’s in pretty bad shape.”

“No, Rocket. He’s not. He’s fat, but so what? You saw him fight Thanos’ army, same as me. Jumping around like gravity didn’t exist. Catching blows and knocking heads like-” he slumped, “It was pretty awesome, actually. Dunno why he’s gotta mess with me.”

“Ah well,” Rocket wandered to the machine and looked it over, “I mean that is just how we do here, isn’t it? We just mess with each other. I call you a flatulent twaglid, you call me a racoon, which I AM gonna look up what that is one of these days… it’s just... yanno, what us macho tough guys do.”

“Yeah well I don’t like it from him. On my ship.”

“Well then tell him.”

“No! Then he wins.”

Rocket shrugged, “Then either suck it up or hit him back. Maybe he’ll lay off first.”

Quill nodded, “Yeah. Yeah maybe.”


End file.
